


Caring for Dr.Watson

by WholockHobbit88



Series: Little Sherlock and John [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adult baby, Age Play, Age Regression, Caregiving, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Sherlock, Diapers, Fluff, Gen, Infantilism, Non-Sexual Age Play, Sickfic, Wetting, age play switch, baby john - Freeform, diaper fetish, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1453525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WholockHobbit88/pseuds/WholockHobbit88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock have been taking part in age play for a while and feel comfortable in their roles as daddy and baby. When John is in a car accident and becomes injured to the point that he has a hard time caring for himself, Sherlock is very eager to suggest that they reverse their roles and Sherlock becomes the cargiver. John at first refuses but when he gives in an allows Sherlock to care for him, he finds that his feelings regarding being a little are different than he imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John tried to relax in the cab but found that he couldn’t. Every single cell of his body seemed to ache, from his broken leg and arm to the bruises all over his body. But as much as he ached, the thing making him most on edge was the car ride itself. This was the first time he’d been in a car since the accident and he found that he was not handling it very well. He jumped every time they stopped, convinced as they sped up to the car in front of them that they wouldn’t stop in time. Cars honked, sped past them; every time they did, John jumped, earning a series of painful jabs from his multiple pulled muscles. 

“John…..are you alright?” Sherlock asked beside him. 

No, he wasn’t alright. He hurt and ached all over and he couldn’t take any more pain medication for another hour. His heart was racing, breath coming out quicker as he began to panic. He was not alright. “I….I’m fine” John gasped, jumping slightly as the cabbie slammed on the breaks. 

“You clearly aren’t” Sherlock said, looking nervous himself as he observed John. “You are jumping and your breathing and heart rate are elevated. You’re nervous…..the drive is clearly making you nervous because of your last experience in a car” 

“You think!” John said, his breath coming out labored as the car behind them honked. “Of course I’m bloody nervous”

“John, the likelihood of being in an accident right after having one is no more likely than at any other point” Sherlock tried to assure him. “You’re in just as much danger now as any other car ride you’ve ever been in”

“Okay….thanks! That’s really helping!” John said irritably. He looked around, seeing that they were a few blocks from Baker Street and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

Yesterday, John had been in a cab on the way back from interviewing a witness to a crime Sherlock was working. A drunk driver had run a red light and slammed into the side of the cab John was in; it could have been worse but it still left him with a great amount of injuries. His left leg and arm were broken, several ribs bruised, his body covered in bruises and superficial cuts, a huge throbbing lump on his head. Everything ached, everything hurt and though the drugs at the hospital helped, he hated hospitals and since he wasn’t critically injured, he left. As he sat here now he wondered if it was a good idea; he was in terrible pain and he was unsure how he was going to do mundane things like dress and bathe himself. He glanced over at Sherlock; he could ask him to help. John immediately dismissed that idea; that was not a possibility. 

Finally, the cab reached 221b. The cabbie gave them their price and Sherlock looked over at John as if to suggest he should pay. “You serious?” John asked. “I’m in a hospital gown and pyjamas……I don’t have my wallet on me!” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes before pulling out his own wallet and paying the cabbie. There was a prime example of why Sherlock would not be the one to take care of him. He acted like a spoiled child, even when he wasn’t being ‘little’. Sherlock had entrusted him with his age play interests a few months ago and they had become very comfortable, Sherlock as the little and John as the caregiver. John liked taking care of Sherlock; he was a doctor, obviously he enjoyed caring for others. But times like now, when he was the one who was vulnerable…..part of him wished Sherlock could be a little more caring and a little less egocentric. 

Sherlock stepped out of the cab, standing on the sidewalk and waiting for John. He made no effort to help John out and John scowled. “Sherlock, get over here!” he said angrily. Honestly, how was he supposed to get out of the car with his leg broken? 

Sherlock scrambled over to the car and looked in. “What?” he asked, completely at a loss. 

John rolled his eyes. “My leg is broken…..how am I supposed to walk without help?” 

Sherlock nodded, understanding passing over his face. “Oh….yes, of course” he said. He leaned into the car, putting his arm around John’s back and lifting him slightly. He put his good arm over his shoulder and helped John slide out of the car. John stood on his good foot, wincing. Sherlock immediately started walking, causing John to fall a little off balance. 

“Hey! Go slow!” John wailed, his muscles aching desperately. 

“Sorry!” Sherlock said exasperatedly. “You were the one that insisted you wanted out of the hospital….I thought that was because you were feeling better” 

“I was just in an accident yesterday….how quickly do you think I heal?” John asked “I left the hospital so I could be at home…..I hate hospitals”

Sherlock walked slowly, John hobbling along beside him. Getting up the stairs was almost a joke; by the time they got up to their flat, John was sweating heavily and felt like he was going to fall over. 

“Where should I put you?” Sherlock asked hesitantly in the living room. 

“Just put me on the couch” John said. He was desperate to sit down; he was sure he was about to pass out. Sherlock helped him hobble over to the couch, gingerly sitting him down. John sat back down against the couch, sighing heavily. 

Sherlock looked at him uncomfortably, as if unsure what to do with him. “Do you…..need anything?” he asked. 

John breath was labored and he fought to catch it. “Can you get me some clothes?” John asked. “I really want to get out of these awful hospital clothes. I don’t think I can get up the stairs to my room” 

Sherlock’s face changed as if something had just dawned on him. “You can’t even get up the stairs to your room?” he asked. 

John groaned. “No…..just get me my bloody clothes?” he said irritably. Everything hurt and he just wanted rest. 

Sherlock was looking at John with some sort of amusement and John wondered why. “You really need help?” he asked. 

John’s annoyance was beginning to wear him down. “Dammit, Sherlock! Yes……I need help, just get me my clothes” he said. 

Sherlock gave him a smile, one that made John slightly uneasy. “I’ll be right back, John!” he said before dashing off toward John’s room. John rolled his eyes; Sherlock could be so weird…..

John was leaning his head against the back of the couch tiredly when Sherlock returned, carrying a pair of John’s pyjamas. He rushed over to John but before John could get the pyjamas from him, Sherlock was kneeling down in front of his, trying to yank his trousers off. 

“What are you doing?” John asked, his hands going to the waist of his trousers as Sherlock tried to yank them off. 

Sherlock looked up him and rolled his eyes. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” he asked. 

John’s eyes widened. “Actually…..it isn’t really” he said. 

Sherlock stopped for a moment. “You’re in a vulnerable position” he said. 

John was getting more uncomfortable as the moments wore on. “Yes…..I can sense that…..but what are you doing?” he asked. 

“I’m helping you change your clothes” Sherlock said, putting his hands on the waist band of his trousers and giving a firm tug, pulling them down to John’s knees. 

John blushed furiously, his hands going to cover his bits since he didn’t have pants on. “Sherlock!” he said embarrassed. 

“I’m trying to help you” Sherlock said, pulling his trousers completely off. 

John felt like he was going to die of embarrassment. Sherlock had never seen him naked and he didn’t really want to start now. In the course of their age play together, John had seen Sherlock naked before. But it was only when he was in a little headspace, getting a bath or his diaper changed. He was sure that Sherlock would be embarrassed if John saw him naked when he wasn’t little, just like John was now. 

“Yeah….okay” John said, still covering himself. “But…..I’m not wearing pants”

Sherlock looked down openly at John’s crotch before looking back up at John’s eyes. “That’s obvious…..what’s your point?” Sherlock asked. 

Yep…..he was going to die of embarrassment. “I’m naked…..it’s embarrassing” John said. Honestly, the things he had to explain……

“Why?” Sherlock asked. “You do this to me all the time” 

John laughed nervously because there was nothing else he could do. “Yeah, I change you when you’re little…..I’m not little” John said. 

Sherlock sighed. “John, you’re hurt, you said that you needed help” he said. “You always take such good care of me, this can be my chance to take care of you” 

John was surprised and he felt a little warm at Sherlock’s sudden care for him. He hadn’t expected it at all. Even though he was embarrassed to death, Sherlock was just trying to help him. “Thanks, Sherlock” John said honestly. “I appreciate it” 

Sherlock shrugged. “Well, if I’m honest, I have to admit that I’ve always wanted a chance to see you as the baby” he said nonchalantly. 

“Wait? What?” John asked, feeling alarm rise in him. He moved his gown to cover himself as much as he could, regretting they were having this conversation with him half naked. 

“While you’re in need of help, I can take care of you” Sherlock said. “There will be a lot of things you can’t do on your own. I can help you…..you get to be the baby for once.”

“I’m not going to be ‘the baby’” John said, shaking his head and earning a vicious pain shooting through his head. “I need help doing some things but I have no desire to be babied”

“Just relax, John” Sherlock said with a smile. “Just relax and let me help you……it’ll be so much better” He leaned down, slipping John’s feet into his new pyjama pants, being careful with his broken leg. He pulled them as far as he could with John’s hands in the way. “Trust me, John.” He said, looking up at his eyes. 

“I do trust you” John said. “I just don’t want you to treat me like a baby”

Sherlock smiled. “Alright…..I won’t then” he said, though John had a feeling that he wasn’t telling the truth. “I’ll just take care of you…..help you. Sound good?”

“I suppose” John said tentatively. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Honestly, John I’m trying to take care of you” he said. “You act like it’s the end of the world. You don’t have to be strong all the time” 

John looked down; he supposed that Sherlock did have a point. But he didn’t like not being in control. “I guess” John said. He moved his hands, feeling exposed, but just for a second as Sherlock helped him slide the pyjama pants the rest of the way on. Sherlock gingerly helped John out of the gown and into a t-shirt. John had to admit that it was much easier to let him help than try to fight his own way into his clothes. 

Once he was dressed, he felt completely drained and he wanted to sleep. He leaned back against the couch. “Damn……I’m exhausted” John said, gasping for air and wishing yet again he could take his medicine. 

“Want to go to bed?” Sherlock asked, appearing now to be eager to help him. 

“No” John said tiredly. “I don’t want to go up those stairs……I’ll just sleep here on the couch.”

“Rubbish” Sherlock said shaking his head. “You can sleep in my bed”

“Really?” John asked. 

“Of course” Sherlock said, “Up you go”

Sherlock put his arm around John and lifted him up, helping guide him toward his bedroom. Sherlock helped him slide down to sit on the bed. “Do you need anything else before you go to sleep?” he asked. 

“Can I have some water?” John asked, his throat desperately dry. 

“Sure” Sherlock said, walking out of the room to get the water. John sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him a few minutes before he came back with a pitcher of water and a glass. John was surprised when Sherlock poured a glass of water and brought it to John’s lips. John drank the glass quickly, wondering why he was letting Sherlock hold the glass for him. When he drained the glass he pulled back. 

“Want more?” Sherlock asked. When John nodded, Sherlock poured another glass and went to help John drink it. John reached for the glass instead. “I can hold it” John said, grabbing with his good arm. He needed help with things, but this was not one of them. 

“Don’t be silly” Sherlock said, pushing John’s arm away, it falling weakly as he put the glass at John’s lips. He didn’t fight but drank it thirstily again. Honestly, it wasn’t that big of a deal, but with John now knowing Sherlock wanted to baby him, he wanted to keep up as much independence as possible. But right now he was too tired to care. 

When John finished his second glass, he lay down on the bed, sleep threatening to claim him any second. Sherlock pulled the covers up and around John, tucking them around him. 

“Don’t tuck me in” John insisted, his eyes already closed. “Told you I’m not a baby” 

“I know” Sherlock said, almost smugly, still tucking. John wanted to argue again but he was too far gone to do so.


	2. Chapter 2

John woke up several hours later, instantly aware of pain filling his body. Before his eyes even opened, his was moaning softly in agony. When his eyes did open, his room was dark and he knew it was well past time to take his medicine again. John rolled over from his side to his back, his whole body aching and his head throbbing. His bladder was also making itself well known, throbbing from need to go to the bathroom. 

“Sherlock!” John called out, hoping his flat mate would hear him and come running. He needed medicine, he needed a bathroom. “Sherlock!”

John called out several more times weakly. He was dizzy and in pain, withering on the bed in agony. He couldn’t hear any noise in the flat and wondered if Sherlock had left. Surely he wouldn’t do that…..

“Sherlock!” John called out, as loud as his hoarse voice would allow. Still nothing. 

John’s bladder was now throbbing so desperately that it was becoming his primary concern; if he didn’t get up soon he was going to piss himself. He couldn’t wait any longer for Sherlock; gritting his teeth, he used his good arm to push himself slowly into a sitting position on the bed, stopping when he sat up to keep his head from spinning. Sitting up hurt his bladder even more and he moved quickly to the edge of the bed. He tried to stand but the second that he did, he fell back on the bed. 

“Sherlock! Get your skinny arse in here!” John called out desperately but he didn’t come to his help. 

John kept trying to stand up, despite the pain and dizziness, until he finally hoisted himself to his feet. He began to walk toward the bathroom but he was so slow and the pain in his bladder so severe that he wasn’t sure he was going to make it. He could feel a small wet spot already on his trousers and the more desperate he got to get to the bathroom, the harder it became. John’s dizziness overtook him in the hallway and he felt himself crash to the ground, pain throbbing through his body. He yelped out in pain, hoping Sherlock would hear but he didn’t. John’s muscles hurt so much that he couldn’t manage to get up. His bladder throbbed, hurting so much now that he just wanted it to stop.   
“Help me, Sherlock!” John called out in a last ditch effort to make it in time. He could feel the small wet spot on his pants grow for a few seconds before he felt a rush. At first, the hot liquid rushing out of him made him frantic wanting to stop it. But as it quickly ran over his legs, making a wet puddle under him, no sign of stopping any time soon, John just let go, glad the throbbing was gone at least. He felt a tremor of relief go through him as his bladder let lose; it was an oddly not terrible feeling. It wasn’t as bad as he would have thought it might have been; it was better than the stabbing pain he’d had holding it in. Once his bladder was empty, John looked down at himself with shame. He hadn’t wet himself since he was a child, except for a handful of drunken incidences. This was Sherlock’s fault, though……

John gasped for air, enjoying the odd sense of relief for a minute before he tried to get back up again. The giant wet spot on his pyjama pants was quickly becoming cold and uncomfortable. He was pushing up with his good arm when he saw a shadow pass over him. 

“John?” Sherlock asked looking down at him in surprise. “What happened?”

John scowled and looked up at Sherlock in frustration. “I called for you to help me and you ignored me. I was walking to the bathroom and I fell” 

Sherlock seemed unalarmed. “Did you…..wet yourself?” he asked, his tone holding too much amusement for John’s taste. 

John’ face flushed in embarrassment, his eyes drifting to his crotch. “Someone wasn’t here to help me get there quick enough” he said tiredly, getting weary of lying on the floor in a puddle of his own urine. 

“You can’t get to the bathroom on your own?” Sherlock asked, his voice in somewhat fake alarm. 

“Yes, yes I can……if you’d been around” John said. 

“That’s not on your own” Sherlock pointed out. 

John scowled. “Fine……I can’t make it to the bathroom without help then” he admitted. 

“You know what would help that?” Sherlock asked. 

“If my flatmate came when I called desperately for him?” John said in annoyance. 

“No…..you know, you wouldn’t even have to worry about getting to the bathroom at all if you’d let me…..” Sherlock said, drifting off, his eyes wide with excitement. 

“Let you what?” John asked. Sherlock was lucky he was in no position to hurt him right now. 

“If you let me take off your wet trousers exchange them for some nice, warm padding” Sherlock said, his eyes positively alight. 

John’s eyes widened before he scowled. “No…..absolutely not” he said angrily. “No nappies……I told you I do not want to be a baby” He had absolutely no desire to be strapped into a nappy so he could continue to wet himself like an infant. 

“But, John……you couldn’t even make it to the bathroom on time to not wet yourself” Sherlock said with a shrug. 

That’s when it dawned on John. Using the last of his strength, he used his good leg to kick Sherlock. “You did this on purpose!” John snapped. “You ignored me so I would piss myself and you could insist I wear nappies!” 

“No” Sherlock said shaking his head as he rubbed his sore leg. “I did no such thing” 

John knew he was lying; he was a good liar but he knew him well enough to know this was a lie. “Sherlock, you know what?” John asked, fuming. “You said you would help me and you obviously didn’t mean it. So, can you just help me up so I can change my pyjamas and take my medicine? Do you think you could at least do that?” 

“I am helping you! That’s all I want to do” Sherlock insisted helpfully as he reached under John and hoisted him to his feet. When John hobbled into the bathroom, Sherlock tried to follow him, John swatted at him with as much strength as his weak state would allow. 

“You are not helping me” John said, scowling at Sherlock who looked crestfallen. “This is all your fault. You just look out for yourself….stay out there “

John slammed the door in Sherlock’s face and limped over to the toilet, sitting on the closed lid. He was so mad at Sherlock; it was just like him to still be looking out for himself when he should be taking care of John. He knew Sherlock wanted to treat him like a baby, for whatever reason, but that did not excuse him allowing John to fall into the floor and wet himself out of desperation. The fall could have served to really injure him further. 

As John struggled out of his wet pyjama pants and tried to clean himself as best he could with a wet cloth sitting down, he realized that this would be a lot easier if he had allowed Sherlock to help him. But he’d rather die than admit that; he was only in this position because of Sherlock’s carelessness. 

After cleaning up as best he could, he grabbed Sherlock’s dressing gown to put around him since he didn’t have any dry pants in here. He sat down on the toilet, breathing heavily and trying to gain the strength to go back to Sherlock’s room. He was in so much pain and he just wanted to go back to sleep. 

Somehow, John managed the strength to get to the door. When he opened the door, Sherlock was still standing there. The fact both annoyed John and made him relieved to have help back to bed. When he walked forward, Sherlock quickly put his arm around John and helped him limp back to bed. 

As John sat down on the bed, Sherlock lingered around, wrenching his hands. “I’m……sorry?” Sherlock said, unsure, almost as if he didn’t know if it was the correct thing to say.   
“Sorry for what?” John asked in annoyance as he lay down on the bed. He was surprised when Sherlock began to tuck the covers around him again; John didn’t even bother with telling him to stop this time. 

“You were…..right” Sherlock admitted uncomfortably. “I did ignore your calls. That wasn’t right.”

“Yeah you think?” John said, nestling into the covers. 

Sherlock looked uncomfortable with this whole apologizing business. Good; John was uncomfortable wetting himself, especially being forced to. “I really was trying to help” Sherlock said, rubbing his hands in an uncharacteristic show of nervousness. 

“Help? How was that helping?” John asked. Sherlock obviously had no idea what a good idea of ‘help’ was. 

Sherlock’s face turned red. “I know it doesn’t seem that way to you” he said. “But it would really ease your mind and let you relax better if you let me…..put you in nappy” 

Sherlock averted his eyes uncomfortably. He rarely talked about his babyish interests when he wasn’t in a little mindset. 

“I told you I didn’t want to be babied” John said, miffed. “It’s not helping if the person doesn’t want you to do it” 

Sherlock bounced on his feet, his face turning a darker shade of red. “I’m sorry…..I was only seeing it how I see it. You changing my nappies makes me feel so cared for and close to you…..that’s all I was thinking about. I wanted to give you that same comfort; I’m sorry” 

John wanted to be mad at Sherlock but he felt himself soften. Sherlock never really talked about how their little playdates made him feel. John knew it had a lot to do with feeling cared for. But to hear Sherlock say that it made him feel close to John warmed John’s heart. Sherlock had gone completely wrong about doing it but John could see now that in his own twisted way he really did care. 

“It’s….alright” John said. “I really don’t want to wear nappies but I see why you did it and it’s alright” 

Sherlock smiled, looking relieved. “Alright……okay” he said, nodding, tension breaking. “Good” He reached over to the nightstand and opened one of John’s prescription bottles, taking a few pills out. He sat down on the bed beside John, grabbing a glass of water. 

“Now…..let’s get you some good hard painkillers” Sherlock said with a grin. He put his arm around John’s back, helping him sit up as he put the pills in his mouth. He put the cup to John’s lips, this time drinking not as enthusiastically as last time. When he had finished, Sherlock laid John back down, tucking his covers back around him. It did make him feel silly having Sherlock do everything for him but at the same time it was kind of nice. 

“Need anything else?” Sherlock asked as he finished tucking the covers in. 

John’s eyes were already fluttering; the pain he felt coursing through his body was the only thing that was keeping him awake. “No…..I’m fine” he said sleepily. Technically, it was true. 

“Okay…..well, then sleep well” Sherlock said quietly. John heard his footsteps distantly drift off until everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

John’s sleep was not well; he had nightmares that he wouldn’t wake from, ones that kept reoccurring. He kept seeing a car out of the corner of his eye, right before the car slammed into him, filling him with pain. Then his dreams would morph into him lying on the cold, hard pavement, hearing sirens and wishing something could end his pain. Even once his nightmares of his accident stopped, his old familiar dreams of sand and bombs came to visit him. 

Eventually, after some time John finally came out of the nightmarish state that he was in. He tried to stretch out in the bed but his body screamed in protest; obviously his pain meds had worn off. He felt even sorer today than yesterday, if somehow that was possible. He felt something warm and comfortable against his cheek and he buried his face in it, trying to find some measure of comfort. 

“Good morning John” 

John heard Sherlock’s voice somewhere near him and his eyes popped open. He was slightly horrified when he opened his eyes and saw Sherlock sitting in the bed next to him and found that the item that was so warm and wonderfully comforting was Sherlock’s green fuzzy blankie which he was unfortunately clutching to his face. John tossed the blankie away from him as if it was something deadly, but he could tell by the smile on Sherlock’s face that he had already seen him snuggling up to it. 

“God, Sherlock” John said, sighing and rubbing his eyes, his arm screaming in pain. “What are you doing sitting her staring at me?”

“I just woke up” Sherlock said, a wide and unusual smile on his face. 

“You do not look that perky when you first wake up” John said. “What do you do, just sit here and watch me sleep?” 

“Sometimes” Sherlock admitted with a shrug. He picked up his blankie and tried to put it back into John’s arms but he swatted it away. 

“I don’t want that thing!” John said disgusted as if it was a piece of rubbish. 

“Yeah you do…..you wanted it a second ago” Sherlock said, pushing the blanket at him. 

“Only because you probably planted it on me” John said defensively. It was exactly the sort of thing that Sherlock would do; shove a blankie in his hands and then pretend that he was the one that wanted it. 

Sherlock, surprisingly, laughed. “John, you are entirely too paranoid.” He said. “You act like holding a blankie is the worst thing you can do” 

“Of course I am” John said cynically. Of course he was paranoid; living with a borderline psychopath did that to a person. And he didn’t believe that holding a blankie was a suitable thing for him to be doing. He’d accepted, fairly easily, Sherlock’s need for babyish things as an adult. But for him, it wasn’t acceptable. His parents had been tough on him; the army had been tough on him. He had learned from an early age to ‘grow up and get over it’. 

Sherlock didn’t continue to push the blankie issue, for which John was surprised. “So…..you obviously don’t need a blankie” Sherlock said. “What do you need? Want to have some breakfast?” 

John lay for a moment, thinking. Though his pain was nearly overwhelming, under the pain and soreness he was actually really hungry. “Yeah……some breakfast does sound good” John said. “Wait…..you’re going to cook?” he asked in surprise. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically as he got up from the bed and walked around to side that John was on. “Honestly, John…..do you think I’m completely incompetent?” he asked. “Of course I can cook….I just choose not to most of the time” 

John tried to push the covers back on the bed, pain surging through him from the slightest movements. Sherlock noticed his struggle and pulled the covers back for him, helping him sit up. After helping him take his medicine, Sherlock lifted John into a standing position and helped him walk out of the room. When they passed the bathroom, John stopped Sherlock. “Hold on….I might as well go before I get settled down again” John said. He limped into the bathroom and when Sherlock tried to follow him into the bathroom, John held up his hand. “Remember yesterday…..this is something that I can do myself” John insisted.

Sherlock looked a little crestfallen, as if he strongly wanted to help. This helping Sherlock was completely new to John. He was egocentric, both as a big and a little so for him to actually be wanting to help John instead of having John take care of him was something he was not remotely used to. “But, you can get me some pyjamas while I’m in here, actually” John said, wanting to get out of Sherlock’s too big dressing gown. 

“Alight” Sherlock said with a smile, eager to help. He walked toward John’s bedroom to get his pyjamas. John attended to his business in the bathroom, not the least bit surprised when a minute later Sherlock simply burst into the bathroom.

“Sherlock!” John muttered, trying to the pull the dressing gown around him. “I told you I didn’t need help in here!” 

“I know, stop being dramatic” Sherlock said, “I was going to help you with your pyjamas…..unless you’re too much of a ‘grown up’ to accept my help” Sherlock held out John’s pyjamas for him. John actually did want Sherlock to help him; it’d been so much easier yesterday when Sherlock had helped him into his clothes. But John couldn’t Sherlock help him with everything, even if he was whiling. 

John took the pyjamas. “That’s fine…..I can do it” he insisted. “Why don’t you go get breakfast started…..I’m starving” 

Sherlock looked a little offended but didn’t say anything as he left the bathroom and went to the kitchen. John sat down on the toilet lid, taking his clothes and trying to figure out the best way to go about this. It was difficult, more difficult than he had imagined, with one half of his body essentially useless and the rest of his body so sore he could hardly move. He spent about five minutes trying to wrestle himself into his pants before chucking them across the floor; he didn’t need pants anyway. He tried to put his shirt on but that was even more difficult than the pants and he abandoned that effort also. He really did need Sherlock’s help but he’d rather die than ask for it now after he had insisted that he could do it himself. He was trying to get his feet into his pyjama bottoms when the man in question walked in the room. 

“John, you’ve been in here for 15 minutes, please let me help you” Sherlock said, his face natural. John was expecting him to look smug about it or to say ‘I told you so’ but he didn’t. He genuinely looked ready to help. John felt completely sore and drained from his efforts anyway so he nodded. 

“Okay” John said, relenting, giving Sherlock the pyjamas, feeling completely useless and embarrassed sitting there naked. 

Sherlock didn’t say anything or do anything to make him feel uncomfortable as he helped him get dressed. He was slow, gentle, almost…..loving. John figured the drugs must be making him see things. 

“Better?” Sherlock asked after he finished dressing John. John knew he had to be imagining Sherlock rubbing his back slowly as he said this. 

“Yeah…..that’s better” John said with a smile, leaning into the imaginary Sherlock touch.   
……  
John sat on the couch, feeling the effects of his pain medication making him drowsy and at ease. He was watching a movie on telly while Sherlock finished making breakfast. John didn’t know what he was making but it smelled wonderful, at least, and his stomach growled loudly. He hadn’t eaten anything since before the accident; he’d been in too much pain and too sleepy the past day and a half to eat. 

A few minutes later Sherlock walked into the living room, carrying a tray of food. “All ready for some breakfast?” he asked with a smile on his face. He laid the tray of food on John’s lap. “See, I told you I can cook”

John had to admit that it did appear that Sherlock had outdone himself a plate that bursting with pancakes, eggs, sausage and bacon, along with tea and coffee. “Yeah, I guess that I didn’t give you nearly enough credit” John admitted as he looked at the spread. 

“As usual, you underestimated me” Sherlock said with a strangely pleasant smile on his face. “But that’s alright…..I’ll prove I’m good at taking care of you” He placed John’s feet on a foot stool, tucking the blanket around him, sitting down beside John as he began to eat his breakfast. John noticed that Sherlock was completely free of any food. 

“Sherlock” John said between bites. “Why are you so bent on showing me you can take care of me?”

Sherlock glanced at John uncomfortably. “I told you that last night” he said, a small trace of pink coming to his cheeks. 

John knew he didn’t like talking about feelings but he was going to push it this time. “Well, I know you said you wanted me to feel cared for, which I do, but you said you wanted to baby me. Is that just because you wanted me to feel cared for by you? Because, you know, I feel that way when I take care of you” 

Sherlock blushed a little bit more. “That’s not the only reason” he said shyly.

“Then what is it?” John prodded. 

Sherlock looked forcefully at the telly. “You’re really injured and you’re only in that state because of me” he said, his voice steady but John could hear a slight tremor under it.   
“What?” John asked. “I was in an accident…..that wasn’t you’re fault.”

“You were only at the wrong place at the wrong time because I made you go interview a client” Sherlock insisted. “If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been there”

Ah….so that was it. Sherlock felt guilty so he felt the need to make it right. It was completely unnecessary. “Sherlock, it’s not your fault just because I was out working for a case” John assured him. “I could have gotten into an accident anytime”

“But you didn’t” Sherlock said, eyes down. His tone was beginning to take on a smaller, littler tone. “It happened because I made you go. I didn’t even go with you” 

Despite the terrible pain he was experiencing and his own incapable state, he felt his caregiver heartstrings stirring toward his little. “You’ve got to stop blaming yourself…..accidents happen. The only way to prevent it would be to stay in this flat hold up. I wouldn’t change anything; bad things happen in life but you’ve got to take that chance to live.” 

Sherlock looked down, his eyes sad. He was trying not to be little but John could see it. 

“Hey, listen” John said cheerfully, changing the subject. “After I finish my breakfast, why don’t you get your toys out?” 

“Why? I’m not…..being little right now” Sherlock said, shooing the idea away but John could tell that he wanted to do it anyway. 

“I know” John said, humoring his attempt at being big. “But, I’m going to be laid up on the couch all day anyway. I’ll play with you” 

He could tell that Sherlock was trying not to smile but he didn’t win. A small smile spread across his face. “Sure” he said in a slightly excited voice.


	4. Chapter 4

Though John had convinced Sherlock to get out his toys to help him calm down a bit, John had to admit that he felt pretty relaxed himself. He’d even initially let Sherlock talk him into playing a memory game; John disliked playing games like that with Sherlock because he won so fast and was not a gracious winner. And even though John did lose all 10 games they played, Sherlock was a better winner this time. Still, there was only so many times John wanted to lose so they had moved onto something else. Sherlock had taken to coloring and that’s when John could see his inner turmoil; he wasn’t letting himself become fully little, wanting to be big for John. Sherlock had scribbled furiously through nearly a whole coloring book in frustration before he had calmed enough to actually color in the lines. John would have joined him, but with his left hand broken he had settled for making a Lego airplane with his good hand. 

After a few hours of playing, John was feeling himself grow tired and ready for a nap but he wanted to take a bath beforehand. He hadn’t had a shower since before the accident and he felt gross, especially after his bathroom incident last night. John put his Legos down and tried to push up from the couch and walk to the bathroom. He’d only gotten two steps when Sherlock looked up from his coloring and noticed John moving. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, slight alarm on his face, dropping his crayons. 

“I need a bath” John said, trying to limp toward the bathroom. Sherlock jumped up from the floor and rushed over to John, putting his arm around him and leading him back to the couch. 

“What are you doing?” John asked as Sherlock sat him back down on the couch. 

“You sit and rest……I can draw you a bath” Sherlock insisted. “I’ll be right back” He rushed off toward the bathroom before John could argue and he soon heard running water. 

After a few minutes Sherlock emerged from the bathroom, a cheery smile on his face. 

“Alright…..all ready” he said happily, helping lift John up and helping him toward the bathroom. When they walked in and John saw the full bathtub, brimming to the top with bubbles he was surprised even though it shouldn’t have surprised him in the least. Sherlock loved bubble baths; he could spend hours in the tub, often only getting out because John made him. It shouldn’t have surprised him, but still John didn’t know if he wanted a bubble bath; he couldn’t ever remember having one. 

John began to try to wrestle out of his shirt but Sherlock was instantly there helping him. John opened his mouth to argue but Sherlock stopped him. “Don’t even think of arguing…..just let me help you and get you into that nice water faster, alright?” he said, his eyes meeting John’s. He reluctantly agreed and soon he was sitting completely naked….again. He wasn’t a fan of this causal nudity but there wasn’t much he could do about it. His face was beet red and he was glad to disappear into the bubbles by the time that Sherlock was able to help him in. Though the bubbles made him feel completely infantile, at least they covered his private bits. 

“I’m going to go find something to make a small lunch out of” Sherlock announced. “If you need me, just call for me, alright?” 

“Alright” John said with a simple nod. Sherlock sat a towel on the toilet with in John’s reach before pointing to a small basket beside the tub containing all of Sherlock’s tub toys. “If you need anything to keep you busy, you can borrow my toys” he said with a wink before he disappeared out of the door. 

John huffed at the toy suggestion, leaning back in the tub as Sherlock left. He sighed as his body relaxed; his body was so tired and sore and the hot water really did help. He laid there for a long time, simply relishing how comfortable it felt, before he began to grow too hot from the water. He sat straighter up, the air on the wet skin of his upper half trying to cool down. John debated whether or not to call for Sherlock. But not wanting to bother him when he was supposed to be alright, he simply sat in the tub. After several minutes, though, he was tired and bored. Most of the bubbles had disappeared by now. John failed to see how Sherlock could stay in the tub until he wrinkly, shriveled red skinned and still ask for more. While his muscles did feel better now, he was ready to be done. Out of curiosity, John glanced at the basket of toys by the tub. What was in there that was so much fun? 

He knew he shouldn’t have, but he picked up the basket and began to rifle through it. There were animal squirters, bathtub paint, rubber duckies and a large floating pirate ship with little pirate figures in it. 

“Couldn’t resist the temptation?” 

John’s head whipped up to see Sherlock standing in the doorway, his smile smug, arms crossed. 

John dropped the toys quickly, his face turning even hotter than it had been. “I was not going to play with those toys” John insisted. And he wasn’t…..he just wanted to know what was so bloody interesting. 

“Sure you’re not….that’s why you had them in your hands. To not play with them” Sherlock said, sauntering into the bathroom and standing over John in the tub.   
John felt an odd sense of shyness come over him as he looked at Sherlock towering over him. He almost felt like he’d done something wrong. “I just wanted to see what was so interesting…..you spend so much time in here” he insisted. 

“Why do you find it so hard to just let go?” Sherlock asked, shaking his head. He obviously didn’t buy John’s excuse. 

“I don’t!” John said, feeling defensive. “I don’t want to play with those toys!” 

“Honestly, John…..relax” Sherlock said “You act like it’s the end of the world, wanting to play with a toy.”

John was about to argue when Sherlock surprised him by dumping the tub toys into the water. It splashed up into his face and eyes and he squinted at it. When he opened his eyes again, he was surprised to see Sherlock taking off his clothes. 

“What are you doing?” John asked in alarm.

“I’m determined to make you relax…..play around a little bit. Besides, it’ll be easier to help you get clean if I’m in the tub with you” Sherlock said care freely as if it was the most natural thing ever. 

“Excuse me…..what?” John asked in disbelief. Sherlock was going to get into the water with him? Alarm bells rose up in his head. Without Sherlock being little this was too weird.   
“You heard me…..I’m going to get in with you” Sherlock said, taking off his trousers, leaving him in his pants. “It’ll be fun” 

John shook his head vigorously, causing pain in his neck. “No….I want to get out” he said. “I do not want to play” 

Sherlock ignored John completely, stripping off his pants before climbing into the water. It was awkward; there really wasn’t room for two grown men in the tub. John’s broken leg was propped up on the side of the tub, Sherlock placing his other leg on top of his own to make room for them both. John was not gay, despite what anyone else might think of him, but this was certainly what he felt to be something that crossed a certain line. 

“Sherlock…..get out!” John hissed. When he saw Sherlock’s smile, he knew it would be pointless to argue. 

“Why? You know it’s relaxing in here” Sherlock said. 

“Not with you in here!” John insisted. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes with a smile. “Oh grow up” he said. He pushed some water towards John, splashing him lightly. When John ignored his playful advance, Sherlock splashed him again, this time more forceful so that the water splashed in his face. John glared at him. 

“Don’t splash me” John said in annoyance. Of course Sherlock didn’t listen; this was the same man that had willingly let him wet himself to get his way. Sherlock kept splashing John until his hair and face were completely wet. Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore; he reached into the water, pushing up with his hand, pushing a wave of water at Sherlock. It drenched his hair and covered his face. He swatted at his eyes to get the water out of his eyes, making John finally laugh. He smiled at John. “Now that’s the spirit!” Sherlock said, splashing back. 

John knew he could argue, to try to fight having fun with Sherlock. But what was the point? It was actually kind of fun and no one else was here to see this. They ended up in a vicious water battle for several minutes until the bathroom floor had more water than the tub did. Eventually it died down, with John’s sides aching from laughing. He looked over at Sherlock, whose face was red and happy. It was silly and awkward but John had to admit that it wasn’t so bad. 

“Now, see that wasn’t too hard was it?” Sherlock encouraged, a smile on his face. 

But that didn’t mean that he had to admit it to Sherlock. “I was only humoring you” John said, closed off. 

Sherlock snorted. “No you weren’t….you only humor me when I’m little” he said. “I’m not little……you never humor me when I’m big” He gave John a knowing look.   
“Yeah, whatever” John said with fake grumpiness as he splashed Sherlock again. Sherlock put his hands up to protect his face but was smiling. John was too busy trying to splash Sherlock to notice he was being sneaky. With a lunge toward him Sherlock grabbed John by the cheeks, something cold and rubbing off his hands onto John’s face.   
“What the hell?” John asked, stopping his splashing and reaching up for his face. His fingers came away blue. 

Sherlock held up his hands, showing blue bathtub paint all over his hands. “You can’t out play the baby” Sherlock joked. John could tell that Sherlock was baiting him and he almost fell for it. John was reaching for the paint but he stopped himself; he was not going to paint Sherlock in the bathtub…..naked. He had to draw the line somewhere. 

“Fine….you win” John relented, crossing his arms as if he couldn’t be bothered to care. “Mind getting out of the tub so I can wash?”

“Oh, no you don’t” Sherlock said with a strangely mischievous smile. “I told you I was going to help you” 

“Sherlock…..” John started to say. It sounded whiny even to him. 

“I don’t want to hear any arguing” Sherlock said. “I’m helping you so just give in” 

John had to admit that the bath and the water fight had made him even more tired. He was sure he was going to need a nap before lunch he was so exhausted. It might be nice to have Sherlock do all the work. 

“Alright….” John relented. He sat back in the water as much as he could with the tub so full with them both in it. He tried to suppress a yawn but he couldn’t, simply too tired. 

Sherlock grabbed a bottle of shampoo as he scooted even closer to John. “Lean your head down a little bit” he said, putting his hand on john’s head and helping him tip it forward. John looked down at the water and closed his eyes. Sherlock rubbed the shampoo into his hair, massaging it into his scalp. John suppressed a sigh; it was entirely not decent that it felt so good. He couldn’t have imagined that having his hair washed by someone else could be so terribly relaxing. He was in danger of falling asleep right here in the tub it was so calming. Sherlock’s fingers massaged his scalp and made him tingle down his back, making the tense muscles relax a bit. John could have stayed there all day; when he felt Sherlock pouring water over his head to rinse the soap out, he felt a little disappointed. The water ran over his ears and face and when Sherlock stopped he lifted up his head, rubbing the water out of his eyes. When he opened his eyes, Sherlock was already rubbing soap into a washcloth. Before John could even try to protest, Sherlock was scrubbing the wash cloth over his neck, arms and chest. For the first time, John didn’t feel like trying to protest. Though he would die if anyone could see him in the tub with Sherlock letting him wash him like child, he had to admit that he actually kind of enjoyed it. Sherlock was gentle and careful, so unlike his normal self. It was kind of nice to have someone paying attention to his needs for once. 

“All ready?” Sherlock asked after rinsing the soap off of John. 

John’s eyes were fluttering from fatigue, his head feeling heavy. “I’m more than ready” John said. “All ready for a nap”

Sherlock smiled at him, his face kind. If he was not mistaken it was same fatherly expression that he had often had on his face in response to Sherlock’s innocence and littleness. “Well, then let’s get you out of this tub and all dried off” he said gently, getting up from the water. He dried off his own self quickly, putting his pyjamas back on before returning back to the tub. He lifted his arms under John’s armpits, helping lift him out of the water. He helped John sit back on the closed toilet to rest his leg while he dried John off gently. Really, John could have done it himself. It would have taken him much longer and would have hurt more but he was capable of doing it. But it he was so tired and hurt that it was nice to not have to do it. I can see why Sherlock likes this……As soon as the thought entered his mind, he sought to dash it away. That’s what Sherlock wanted him to think; he wanted him to start enjoying being babied like he was and he certainly didn’t want that. It was fine for Sherlock; in fact he loved that part of Sherlock. But for him it was not going to be a part of his life. 

As Sherlock put the towel over John’s head to dry his hair, John pushed back slightly. “I can finish” John insisted, taking the towel from Sherlock. The small action caused pain to shoot through his shoulders. He tried to rub the towel on his head but the pain was excruciating. 

“Oh for God’s sake” Sherlock huffed, seeing the pain written all over John’s face. He snatched the towel away from John, pushing him gently so that John’s face was pressed into fabric of Sherlock’s t-shirt as he vigorously dried John’s hair. “Stop being so stubborn!”

John gave up as he crumpled against Sherlock’s stomach. Sherlock rubbed his hair as he took in the scent on Sherlock’s shirt; a mixture of peppermint and tobacco and something that was completely unique to Sherlock. He was warm and soft and John was relaxed. He stayed like this for so long that he hadn’t even realized that Sherlock had long since stopped drying his hair; his hands were on John’s back, rubbing circles along it. John sighed, realizing too late that he had done it out loud. John tried to figure out what it was that they were doing here. When Sherlock was little he was very affectionate; they cuddled all the time. When Sherlock wasn’t little, they never did and certainly nothing that Sherlock initiated. But it oddly wasn’t strange; it was very nice. John held onto Sherlock’s hips as he rested his face in his stomach, feeling like he could go to sleep like this. 

“Is my little John sleepy?” Sherlock asked. His voice was gentle and kind, quiet, as if he was addressing a child. Instead of feeling patronized, he felt at peace. He’d fought so hard to not have anything to do with being treated little like Sherlock wanted to treat him; it wasn’t so bad, this part at least. It didn’t mean he was going to take up sucking a dummy or wearing a nappy. 

“Yes” John said, his voice tired and sleepy, feeling every inch of Sherlock’s fingers along his back. 

Sherlock pulled back, putting his hands on John shoulders and looking down at him John with a look he’d never seen. It should have scared him, and it did a little bit; he looked down at John like a father would look at a newborn baby. 

“Then please let me take you to bed……and take care of you” he said softly. 

John felt a small part of him give up; he was just too tried and in too much pain to fight anymore. “Okay”.


	5. Chapter 5

John’s eyes fluttered, trying to focus on the telly screen but was waning. His body sought to go to sleep but he was in so much pain he couldn’t relax enough. He’d just taken his medicine and was waiting for it to kick in. He sunk further down into the couch, shivering under the blankets. He was beginning to feel feverish and he hoped he wasn’t getting sick. He didn’t need to be sick on top of everything else. Sherlock was next to him, and though he didn’t want to appear to be seeking his touch but Sherlock was warm and comfortable and he needed it. As slyly as possible he scooted over closer to Sherlock. 

Sherlock, of course, was too observant for that. John could see his sly smile out of the corner of his eye. “Someone’s getting cuddly” he said with a smile in his voice.

“No, someone’s cold” John muttered, trying to hold onto some shred of his manhood. He burrowed into the blankets, shivering but less so the closer that he got to Sherlock. He was warm and soft; Sherlock put his arm around him and pulled him closer. He closed his eyes against Sherlock’s chest, feeling the warmth and fuzziness of his pain medication kick in. He could hear Sherlock’s voice close to him but it sounded like it was in a bubble, far away. He felt himself being jostled and moved, his eyes opening slightly. 

“What are you doing?” John asked. They had been so comfortable and they had just started cuddling…..no, not cuddling, whatever it was that they were doing. But now Sherlock was standing in front of him, trying to pull him up. 

“You’ve been dozing on me for an hour…..let’s get you to bed” Sherlock said. 

An hour? It felt like on seconds to John. He ached and shivered; he was definitely getting sick. His stomach rolled and he feared he might throw up. “I….feel…..like……shit” he muttered, his tongue thick and heavy. 

Sherlock grabbed John’s hands with his own and gave them a squeeze. “Once you get some sleep, it’ll help you feel better” he encouraged, helping him to stand to his feet. John swayed heavily when he stood up and the queasiness in his stomach increased. Sherlock put a strong arm around him and helped him walk. They tottered slowly down the hallway, John’s belly aching and his bladder full. When they passed the bathroom John pointed weakly. “I…..need…..” he slurred out tiredly. He couldn’t finish his sentence and he was glad Sherlock knew what he needed. He steered him into the bathroom, helping John stand in front of the toilet. When he let go of him, John swayed uncontrollably. His equilibrium was all off and he nearly crashed to the floor before Sherlock caught him. 

“I….I’m dizzy…….” John muttered as Sherlock caught him. 

“Obviously……”Sherlock said. “Alright, I’ll help you stand up and you go, okay?” 

John’s fuzzy head protested. “What? Take…..a piss…..with you standing here?” he asked. 

Sherlock huffed behind him. “How else are you going to do it? Honestly, it would be so much easier if you would just let me put you in a nappy. You could go without even getting out of bed” 

“Fine” John said, not liking the sound of that alternative. “I’ll go……just don’t…..look”

“I won’t look” Sherlock insisted. He turned his head to the side so that he wasn’t looking. 

John still felt nervous; he had to pee so badly and he just wanted to be done so he could go to bed. It wasn’t that easy with Sherlock holding him though; he forced himself to relax but it still felt like it took forever before his nervous bladder began to trickle. 

“Done?” Sherlock asked afterwards. 

“Yeah” John said sleepily, glad to be able to get back to bed. Sherlock helped him down the hallway to his room. Sherlock placed him on the bed, helping him lie down. Sherlock tucked the covers around John comfortingly. He was so cold and the covers made him feel better even though a little chill remained. Sherlock, observant as ever, grabbed a quilt off the edge of his bed and placed it on top of the other covers. 

John felt Sherlock’s hand on his forehead, cool against his hot skin. “Need anything else, John?” he asked gently. 

John really didn’t need anything but suddenly the idea that Sherlock was going to leave him unacceptable. He knew it must have been the illness making him vulnerable but he was scared to be alone right now. “Stay with me awhile” John asked. He peaked his eyes open and looked up at Sherlock standing above him. 

Sherlock smiled. “Of course” he said before climbing into bed next to him. He scooted close to John, running his hand through John’s hair, the other going around his back to cuddle him close. 

“You.....you don’t……have to……” John tried to argue against the comforting touch even though he wanted it badly. 

“Don’t even start” Sherlock said with a smile. “You wanted me here…..you’re not getting rid of me” 

John smiled; he closed his eyes and pressed his face into Sherlock’s chest, relishing the feel of his hair being played with. In no time at all, he was drifting to sleep.   
…….  
John woke up several hours later in the worst sort of distress. It was dark in the room and John struggled against the covers, his body soaked in sweat and making him feel clammy. Pain shot over every inch of his body and he shook with dizziness. His stomach lurched heavily and John could tell that he was going to throw up. He tried to get up, but the most that he managed to do was lean over the side of the bed before his stomach spewed forth everything it had. He threw up so hard it made his stomach ache. As he shivered, leaning over the bed, a puddle of puke in the floor, he felt terrible. He never cried but something inside him felt small and helpless and he began to sob. Sherlock, who had been sleeping beside him, stirred. 

“John? What’s going on?” he asked drowsily in the dark. 

Now that John had started to cry, he couldn’t stop. He didn’t know why the hell he was crying; this was probably close to the worst that he had ever felt but he still shouldn’t have been crying like a child. His crying reached such a level that he threw up again. Hearing this, Sherlock switched on the light. 

“Oh my God, John……what’s wrong?” he asked in alarm, taking in the situation. 

“Sorry” John muttered, wiping his mouth in embarrassment. “I…..I got sick” He lay back on the bed, sweating and shaking and feeling absolutely horrible. 

“Oh, don’t apologize” Sherlock said guilty as he looked over at John. “You’re sick….don’t be sorry for being sick”

Sherlock rolled over and put his hand to John’s forehead. “John, you are burning with fever “he said, alarmed. “You’re really sick, maybe we should take you back to the hospital”   
Part of John was alarmed himself but he didn’t want to go back to the hospital. “No…..no….don’t” he said, his voice breaking from where he had been crying. He just wanted to stay here at home. 

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea” Sherlock said. “I do have some antibiotics I didn’t take from the last time I was sick…..I could give you those. Are you sure you don’t want to go to hospital?” 

“I just wanted to stay here with you” John said, his voice coming out whiny. He felt delirious and his emotional state was vulnerable. He could see now why Sherlock was so clingy when he was little; with your emotions compromised, you needed people more. 

“Alright” Sherlock relented. He pulled the covers off of John. “We need to get you cool. Hold on a minuet and I’ll be back” Sherlock climbed out of bed, walking around the mess on the floor and out of the room. John felt his loss heavily for the few minuets that he was gone before he returned. He sat down on the bed beside John, putting his arm under him and helping him sit. 

“Here…..take this” Sherlock encouraged, putting a few pills into John’s mouth and tipping a glass of water against his lips. John swallowed the pills, the small motion hurting his sore stomach. Sherlock helped John lie back down, pulling his shirt off of him. John immediately felt freezing. 

“Uh……cold” John whined. 

“I know” Sherlock said softly. “We need to get you cool though” He put a cold wet towel on his chest and one on his forehead. John’s teeth began to chatter. 

“Cold!” John whined even louder. He felt like he was in an arctic blizzard. 

“Shh…..I know…..but you don’t want to go to the hospital, we have to get you cooled down” Sherlock cooed, rubbing his arm. “Sit still while I get this mess cleaned up, alright?” 

“O……K…..” John said between teeth chatters. He drifted in out of consciousness over the next several minutes, hearing shuffling around and smelling the scent of disinfectant that made his stomach feel queasy again. He needed to pee again but he tried to ignore it; there was no way he could get up now. He was so cold and he hurt so badly; he was glad when Sherlock had finished cleaning and got back into bed with him. 

“Thanks….for doing that” John said, still feeling guilty that he’d had to clean up his vomit. 

“It’s not a problem…..you’ve done it for me before “Sherlock said, settling down. He was glad when Sherlock removed the cold cloths but he didn’t put his shirt back on.   
The aching in John’s bladder was getting to a point that he was unable to ignore it any longer. He’d never realized until now how often he went to the bathroom and how inconvenient it could be. He wasn’t sure he could move, much less make it to the bathroom. 

“Sherlock” John said weakly, opening his eyes and looking up at Sherlock who was playing with his hair. 

“Yes?” Sherlock asked, looking tired himself but doing a good job at ignoring his own needs for John. 

“I have…..to….pee…again” John said tiredly. 

“You really want to get up right now?” Sherlock asked, his own weariness beginning to reflect in his voice. 

“No…..I don’t want to….but I have to” John said. His stomach throbbed, his head swam and he shivered. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Sherlock’s comforting touch.   
John’s eyes were closed, trying to focus on nothing but Sherlock’s fingers against his hair. “You could let me take care it” Sherlock suggested. 

John knew what he was suggesting and he was alarmed that he didn’t immediately argue against it. In fact, he was so ill be found himself actually considering it. “I can’t do that” John said weakly. 

Sherlock stroked his hair in the gentlest and kindest manner. “You know, John, if you do this now it doesn’t mean I’ll expect you to later when you’re better. You can just do it now when you feel really bad” he said understandingly. 

John was so feverish and that was what he was going to blame it on later. “But I’m not a baby” he said weakly, knowing his fight was already gone. 

Sherlock’s hands drifted from John’s hair and across his forehead. “I know you aren’t….you are a solider, a doctor…..you are a strong man” he assured John. “But you’re sick and you need some special care. Can I help you?” 

John opened his sore eyes and looked up at Sherlock. He looked so kind and eager, so ready to please, so ready to help. He couldn’t believe, even in his weakened state that he was agreeing to this. “Yes” John said as a blush was already tinting his cheeks. If there was anyone that would not judge him in this regard it would be Sherlock but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t hard. 

“Good” Sherlock said in a soothing voice. “I think you’ll really fine it comforting” 

John didn’t think he’d find it comforting at all; this was embarrassing, demeaning. It was unfortunately necessary but that didn’t mean it was comforting at all. John’s head was swirling with fever as Sherlock got off the bed. John didn’t watch him as he went to the closet and riffled through his baby items to find his nappies. 

John only opened his eyes when he heard Sherlock’s footsteps right in front him. “Sure you’re alright right with this?” he asked, clarifying one last time that he wasn’t about to do something that John would later hate him for. 

John tried to push up on his arms, tried to make one last attempt to get out of bed but it was pointless. His arms were shaky and the small movement just made his head ache and his stomach lurch. “Yeah……I’m sure” John said reluctantly as he lay back down on the bed and swallowed his nausea. He wasn’t at all sure about this but he didn’t have much of choice so he had to be fine with it. He never expected Sherlock to talk him into wearing a nappy, much less actually using one. The idea wasn’t appealing but his bladder was aching so much by this point he didn’t care as much as he normally would have. 

Sherlock grabbed John’s legs and turned him so that he was facing him. His muscles protested slightly but not as much as his nerves did. Sherlock’s face was kind and neutral, his eyes tired in the glow of the lamp; John suddenly wished that he couldn’t see his face while he was doing this. 

Sherlock grabbed the hem of John’s pyjamas and his pants, pulling down slightly. John’s breath came in quickly and Sherlock stopped, fearing he might have hurt John’s fragile body. “Did I hurt you?” he asked in worry. 

“No” John said, forcing himself to breathe “I’m just…..nervous….about this” 

Sherlock gave him a small smile. “That’s alright” he said. “I was nervous about it the first time you did this for me”

“You were?” John asked. He would have assumed that Sherlock would have just been excited. 

“Of course…..I didn’t know how you’d respond” he said, giving him an assuring smile. He put his hands back where they were and pulled John’s trousers and pants down. The air was cold on him and he shivered even more as his cheeks turned pink. Sherlock had seen it before but that didn’t mean he want embarrassed, especially in this vulnerable position. He reached aimlessly for the closest thing to cover his face with, which unfortunately happened to be Sherlock’s blankie. Fuck it; it was better than nothing. 

John heard a distinct crinkling sound before Sherlock turned him slightly to put the nappy under his bottom. He felt Sherlock’s hands go to his legs, pulling them apart to pull the nappy through his legs and up and over his bits. John’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. 

John could hear the snap of plastic and feel tugging as Sherlock pulled the tabs around him, securing him into the nappy. Now he was completely trapped. 

“There you go…..all set to go “Sherlock said positively. “How do you feel?”

John wasn’t sure how he felt. He was embarrassed, that went without saying. But other than that he didn’t feel much else other than pain. The nappy definitely felt……different. Soft, fluffy cotton surrounded his crotch and bum, making him warm. It wasn’t terrible…..no, what the hell is wrong with you? Of course it’s horrible; it’s a NAPPY for Christ’s sake……

“Its weird…..but I’m just ready to sleep” John said, avoiding the nappy conversation mostly. He kept his eyes closed until he felt Sherlock help him into his pyjamas, covering up the nappy so he didn’t have to look at it; that made things a little better. 

“Alright…..then let’s get you to sleep” Sherlock said in an encouraging voice. He climbed into bed, pulling John towards him. The small movement encouraged John to slide over to him with ease. He was embarrassed by the loud sound of crinkling with every movement but Sherlock didn’t seem to notice. Sherlock arranged the covers so that they were lying over top of them and turned out the lamp. It was dark and quiet and John relaxed against Sherlock. He knew his illness was making him vulnerable but he didn’t know why he resisted this comforting touch. John’s muscles ached, his head swam uncontrollably; his stomach ached and he shivered. He felt so poorly but as he relaxed against Sherlock’s chest, his hand rubbing his back gently, it wasn’t that bad. 

John’s bladder was almost full to bursting and he cringed at the idea of actually using the nappy. His fever was beginning to go down and he suddenly wondered why he hadn’t thought of pissing in a bottle or something; it’d be better than this. Forcing his mind not to worry too much, he tried to let his bladder go. Despite the fact that he felt like he was about to wet himself, he couldn’t actually go. He pushed, straining himself until he hurt but for some reason it wasn’t that easy to piss yourself willingly. 

“Don’t strain yourself……relax” Sherlock said in a soft voice. John blushed and he was glad it was dark so he couldn’t see. John didn’t want him to know that he was trying to pee right this second; even though Sherlock enjoyed using nappies, he didn’t want him to know. But of course, Sherlock knew everything. 

“It takes some getting used to” Sherlock said. “You have to relax your muscles and just let go……don’t push” 

Sherlock shifted John so he could rub his belly right above his nappy. The motion, though somewhat intimate, actually did relax John. He forced himself to focus on Sherlock’s rubbing and not trying to pee. It actually did seem to help. 

In the quiet of the room, Sherlock’s voice began to ring out, low and calming. Singing…..

“Lullaby and goodnight, with roses bedight  
With lilies o'er spread is baby's wee bed  
Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed  
Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed

Lullaby and goodnight, thy mother's delight  
Bright angels beside my darling abide  
They will guard thee at rest, thou shalt wake on my breast  
They will guard thee at rest, thou shalt wake on my breast”

John had never heard Sherlock sing; Ever. And he certainly wouldn’t have expecting him to be singing a lullaby; to him, no less. His voice was calming and slightly hypnotizing; John focused on it and the gentle way he rubbed his stomach, causing a flutter in his belly. After a few minutes of being relaxed, John could feel a warm sensation beginning to spread through his nappy. It started out slow and then gained speed as his bladder finally accepted that it was alright to go here. It was, like everything else he’d been trying lately, strange. He felt a warm, wet sensation around his bits, spreading back to his bum as the nappy seemed to puff out and get bigger. He breathed a sigh of relief as his bladder eased, feeling nothing but warmness now. 

“Feel better?” Sherlock asked, a smile in his voice. Sherlock was too just too observant. 

“I feel horrible” John said. It was the truth; he did feel horrible but he was avoiding what Sherlock was really asking. His bladder did feel a world of better. He relaxed against Sherlock, laying his head on the pillow but staying close enough that Sherlock could go back to rubbing his back. The initial warmness and wetness that he felt was subsiding a little and though he should have wanted to get out of the nappy, he felt like he couldn’t be bothered to worry about it. 

“Just keep singing” John said. He didn’t necessarily want to admit how much he’d enjoyed it but he didn’t want Sherlock to stop either. It had been calming and he was sure that if Sherlock started to sing, then it wouldn’t take long at all before he was asleep again. 

“I can do that” Sherlock said. John could hear the satisfied smirk in his voice. Before he calmed and his voice was gentle again. 

“Lullaby and goodnight, with roses bedight……”


	6. Chapter 6

John woke up the next morning, feeling warm and secure. He kept his eyes closed and pressed his face into the cocoon of blankets and pillows. His stomach was slightly queasy and though he felt cold and feverish, he instantly knew that his fever was down from last night. His muscles ached and he relished the feeling of not getting up. John rolled over in bed, his muscles protesting as he did so; he reached out for Sherlock but didn’t feel him there. Cracking an eye open revealed he was alone. The fact actually made him feel sad; much sadder than it should have. He recalled the previous night and how Sherlock had been so gentle and caring with him when he had gotten sick. He remembered how nice it was to have him rub his back and sing to him. As John shifted in bed, he felt the bulk in between his legs and felt his face redden, remembering Sherlock putting him in a nappy and him using the nappy. It had been mortifying embarrassing but he had to admit that it wasn’t horrible. The tightness of the nappy around him and tale tell crinkle of it made him feel……young? Vulnerable? It wasn’t something that should have been a desirable feeling. Sherlock enjoyed being little, he enjoyed being big. He didn’t like being vulnerable; vulnerability was scary. But when he was vulnerable around Sherlock it didn’t feel scary. It was sort of…..nice. He liked Sherlock being gentle with him and as much as he’d resisted the idea of being cared for in the beginning, it was much nicer than having to struggle through taking care of everything himself.

John shifted in bed, his nappy crinkling loudly again. It felt bulky from the heavy wetting he’d given it last night and John strangely found himself thinking about it again. He remembered Sherlock’s hand rubbing his tummy and his silky voice singing to him as his swollen bladder had finally given away. He felt a warm flutter in his nappy region, his bladder suddenly seeking to be noticed. He could get up now; he didn’t hurt as much as he had last night though without Sherlock’s help it would still be difficult. He could call for him to come get him. Or……no, he couldn’t. The thought itself made him feel naughty. He could……

He could stay here in bed where it was warm and comfortable and safe and use his nappy. It was already wet so Sherlock wouldn’t have to know he used it again…..no one would know he did it but him. John smiled slightly, burrowing into the covers. This was not right; this was very wrong. He shouldn’t even be considering using the nappy again; he’d already used it once and that was bad enough. Now he was thinking about using it just because he wanted to; it made him feel naughty, like a child that was doing something wrong. One time when he was in playschool he remembered wetting his pants on purpose; another boy had peed his pants that day and he’d found himself oddly curios. He had ducked being the block area and let loose, watching as his shorts had become soaked, leaving a spot on the rainbow carpet. It had felt good; he hadn’t even minded the scolding he’d gotten from his teacher who had known that he did it on purpose. That’s exactly what this felt like. 

John glanced around the room once, almost expecting Sherlock to jump out from somewhere and make a big deal of it, knowing he would know John was using his nappy. Once John was completely sure that no one was around to witness his bad behavior, he burrowed back into the blankets, pulling Sherlock’s blankie to his face and nuzzling it (not because he liked it, certainly not, but because it smelled like Sherlock and was comforting). He did what Sherlock had said and didn’t push but simply let go like he was using the toilet. It took him a few minutes and he had to change positions a couple of times but finally he felt his bladder give way. He felt warmness spread through his crotch and back to his bum, making the nappy puff up even more. Just when he thought he was done, more came until he felt so much warm wetness in every area of the nappy that he was sure that it was going to burst but somehow it didn’t. When it was over, John’s hands were shaking slightly; his heart beating fast, his crotch was warm in more ways than one. He felt naughty and slightly disgusted with himself. He was definitely excited and he had definitely enjoyed it.

Oh shit……

“Morning, John……feeling better?” Sherlock asked as he burst into the room full of unnecessary cheer. 

John froze, one hand still clutching the blankie to his face, the other clutching his now wet and squishy nappied crotch. John was sure that though Sherlock couldn’t see it, he knew it was there. He dropped both immediately, his hands going to pull the blanket up higher on him. Sherlock sat on the bed beside him, a smile on his face. 

“I feel better than last night” John said. “I’m still sore and queasy…..but better” 

Sherlock put his hand to John’s forehead to feel it. “You still have a fever, but it’s gone down a lot” he said. He got out John’s medicine and helped him take it. John’s head swam a little at the movement. 

“Ready for some breakfast?” Sherlock asked. “I can make you whatever you like”

John’s stomach lurched at the thought of eating something. “No…..I still feel sick” he said. 

“You need to eat something, even if it’s small” Sherlock said. 

John smiled at the irony of Sherlock trying to get him to eat for a change. “Alright” John relented. “But if I hurl…..it’s your fault” 

Sherlock smiled slightly. “Fair enough” he said. He patted John’s leg. “First, let’s get you out of that nappy. I’m sure you’re dying to get out of it.” 

John’s smile melted as he felt panic give way over him. He still felt warm and tingly in the nappy; it hadn’t even had a chance to get cold yet. He didn’t want Sherlock to know he was actually enjoying this. He could barely admit it to himself.

“We can get around to it later” John said nonchalantly as if didn’t care one way or the other. 

Sherlock was immediately suspicious. “Nonsense……I forgot to put powder on you last night. I wouldn’t want you to get a rash. Trust me…..it’s awful” he said, giving John a critical once over. 

John knew he was in a hard place; whether he argued or not, it was about to be obvious that he was enjoying this. John felt his cheeks warm up as he relented and sealed his fate. “Alright” he said. “I can change it myself…..if you’d like” John already knew the answer to it. 

“Of course not” Sherlock said waving a hand dismissively. “You were such a good sport and giving it a try the least I can do is clean you up real good”

John’s stomach dropped into feet as he willed himself to become less excited in his nappy but it was no use. Wetting himself on purpose has been such a rush that his body was not giving up that easily. He watched apprehensively as Sherlock went to retrieve the wipes and John’s pants. 

John felt his palms and feet begin to sweat profusely as Sherlock pulled the covers back and turned John toward him. John’s stomach was flip flopping, from nervousness and excitement. What the hell is wrong with me? 

Sherlock pulled John’s pyjama pants off, exposing his nappy as his cheeks burned. Sherlock smiled as he looked at John. “Someone knows how to fill a nappy, don’t you?” he asked in an admiring voice. It made John feel little and embarrassed. When his hands went to the tapes, his face changed to a curious look. “You’re warm” he said, his smile getting bigger. “Couldn’t wait?” 

John covered his face in mortification. This was so embarrassing that there was no way he was going to survive this. “Sherlock…..please just let me do this” he asked. He was too late though; Sherlock had already undone the tapes and completely exposed him. 

If it was possible to die from embarrassment, John knew that he would have. The fact that he was still alive must mean that you couldn’t die of complete humiliation. John’s face was still covered but he could hear a sharp intake of breath, right after Sherlock put the nappy back over John’s wet and very obviously erect penis. 

“Um……John?” Sherlock asked. John covered his face more viciously. He felt like a child that had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, only this was a million times worse. He didn’t answer Sherlock’s question. He felt like he couldn’t speak. 

“John……can you look at me please?” Sherlock asked gently. His voice was calm and not judgmental like John was sure that he deserved. 

“No” John said, keeping his hands firmly planted. 

“You don’t need to be embarrassed…..I’d like to talk about this” Sherlock said. 

John didn’t know how Sherlock could say he didn’t need to be embarrassed. Sherlock enjoyed wearing nappies because they made him feel little and safe. They didn’t give him a damn hard on. There had to be something seriously wrong with him. 

“I don’t want to talk” John said. “Just get out of here, Sherlock”

Sherlock, as usual, didn’t do what John asked. He grabbed John’s hands and pulled them away from his face. John didn’t want to look into his face but when he did his face was calm and understanding, a slight smile on his lips. His hands were cold holding John’s fevered ones. “It’s okay, John” Sherlock said. “You used the nappy and you liked it. That’s okay” 

John snatched his hands away; if hadn’t been in such a precarious situation with nothing covering his lower half, he would have left the room. Well, attempted to leave the room. “No, this isn’t okay” John said angrily. “I’m not alright with any of this……I didn’t want you to baby me, I didn’t want to wear nappies and somehow you got me to do it anyway. I don’t want to like any of this” 

Sherlock didn’t appear to be ready to fight like John would have thought he was. His face was neutral as he sat down on the bed beside John, not looking at him. That made it better. “Why do you want to avoid it so much?” he asked. 

John rubbed his face as he sighed. “This isn’t right” he said. “I’m fine with all this stuff, really I am. When it’s you. I don’t want to do it” 

Honestly it scared John; he didn’t like putting himself into a weak position, relying on Sherlock. But he wanted that that and it made him scared. And he definitely liked the nappies and that made him even more scared. 

“I mean…..who the hell reacts like….this?” John said, his face flushing. 

“People react differently with these things” Sherlock said. “I think it’s a completely normal reaction…..especially since this is the first time” 

“Normal?” John asked with a laugh. He sat up, using the blanket to cover himself. His obvious interest had disappeared now and he was anxious to get back into his pyjamas.   
“Yes” Sherlock said. “I……reacted that way the first time I ever wore one” 

John’s head wiped around to look at Sherlock but he was still looking at the floor. “Really?” John asked. He was not only surprised that Sherlock reacted that way (he seemed like a robot sometimes) but that he was admitting it to John. He really was trying to put John at ease. 

“Well…..yes” Sherlock said, the trace of a blush coming to his cheeks now. “It was exciting…..it happens sometimes, really John. If I seemed surprised, it was only because I never expected you to enjoy it, not because it was the wrong way to react” 

John laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head. “Damn this illness……if it weren’t for this, I could still be normal” he said. 

“I know I kind of forced you into this” Sherlock admitted. “And I am…..sorry……about that. If you want to, I’ll drop all of this completely. I won’t put you in anymore nappies, I won’t play with you or help you do anything you can do yourself.” Sherlock’s voice was sad; it was obvious that he didn’t want to do that. “Or……you can let me take care of you fully…..get the whole experience to decide if you really like it or not”

John rubbed his eyes; was he really ready to give into this thing completely? “I don’t know, Sherlock…..”

Sherlock finally looked up, excitement in his eyes. “All you have to do is say the word…..if something gets too much just tell me and I’ll stop immediately. Okay?” he said, barley containing his happiness. 

John wanted to say no; he wanted to stop this. But all he could think about was how nice it felt when Sherlock cuddled him, how calming his singing voice was, how relaxing it was to take a long bath. “Alright” John said, embarrassed at how excited he already felt at the prospect. 

Sherlock smiled widely. “You won’t regret it” he said, jumping up and going over to the closet.

John’s stomach was twisting; what was he getting himself into? 

Sherlock returned quickly with another nappy and baby powder. John’s stomach twisted from nerves and excitement. He lay back down, wishing his stomach would calm down a bit; the nausea and excitement was a bit much. He shivered, still without a shirt after his fever last night and nothing on his low half but an already opened and now cold nappy.   
“Alright…..let’s get my little doctor dry and comfortable” Sherlock said with a wide smile, looking down at John as he pulled the nappy open and pulled it out from under John’s bum. John tried and failed to not blush deeply as he was left completely naked, sprawled out on his bed. Something about his embarrassment simply added to the feeling of being little. 

Sherlock pulled a couple of wipes out of the container and began to wipe John down. They were cold and he shivered even more. “Aw, I know it’s cold. This will just take a moment and then we’ll get you nice and warm” Sherlock said, using his free hand to rub John’s belly. It should have been embarrassing but it just made his belly feel warm.   
Once Sherlock had wiped John down completely, he lifted his bum slightly and slid the nappy under him. Sherlock opened the baby powder and sprinkled it over his crotch. It tickled a little and made the air smell light and babyish. It reminded John of dozens of times he’d changed Sherlock and the smell had become one that he enjoyed very much.   
Sherlock pulled the tapes tightly around him, securing him in, making him surrounded by warm, fluffy cotton. It still felt strange and slightly dirty but it was nice. He thought about trying to say something as he looked up at Sherlock but he couldn’t think of anything to say. 

“There, now little John doesn’t have to worry about going to the bathroom” Sherlock said, patting the front of John’s nappy, making him smile. It was actually was really nice to not have to worry about stumbling to the bathroom over and over again. “I’m going to get you some clean pyjamas…..I’ll be right back”

As Sherlock walked out of the room John felt himself reaching for Sherlock’s blankie. He pressed it to his face the way he had earlier when he had wet his nappy and somehow it was comforting. He was breathing in Sherlock’s scent on it when he returned; part of him thought about stopping because Sherlock was watching but he figured there was no point so he reveled in it. 

“Alright…..let’s get you dressed and ready for some breakfast” Sherlock said with a smile as he put the pyjamas on the bed beside John. John kept his face in the blanket as Sherlock eased his legs into the pyjama pants, hiding his wince in the soft fabric. When his trousers were on, Sherlock eased John up, prying the blankie gently from him to put the shirt on. It took much longer than it normally would have and caused John to ache. As soon as his shirt was on he felt himself reaching for Sherlock’s blankie again. He didn’t want to admit that he liked it but there was something comforting about it. 

“If you decide you like all this” Sherlock said, gesturing to John and his babyish attire. “Then we’ll have to get you your own blankie. After all, I don’t share very well” He gave John a sly sideways glace. 

John glanced at the blankie in his hands, dirty, tattered and full of its age. Somehow, he didn’t think that another blankie would mean the same thing but he would hardly try to keep Sherlock’s beloved blankie to himself. He tried to hand it back over but Sherlock shook his head. “No…..today’s your day” he said with a big grin. “You can keep it…..just for now”. 

Sherlock helped John up off the bed, his head swimming slightly from the change of position and excursion. His nappy felt thick and warm around him under his pyjamas and it crinkled with every little movement he made. It was an embarrassing reminder that he shouldn’t be wearing it and certainly not enjoying the way it felt against his skin. He saw Sherlock smile out of the corner of his eye at the loud crinkling but he didn’t say anything and for that John was grateful.


	7. Chapter 7

John was going to vomit, of that he was sure. He stared at the telly as Sherlock drowned on about some scientific inaccuracy on the program, trying to focus on that and not the growing sense of unease in his stomach but he could feel the pressure becoming too much. He should have been able to hold down two pieces of toast but his illness and the drugs wearing off told him otherwise. As his stomach lurched and his mouth began to water he tossed his arm over towards Sherlock in desperation. 

“Bin” he said pressing a hand over his mouth in desperation. “I need…..a…..bin” He couldn’t very well jump up and run for the bin himself. 

Sherlock, however, was too immersed in his rant that John had stopped listening to five minutes ago to notice John’s desperation. John tried weakly to get up but it was no use; seconds later his stomach lurched and his breakfast made a second appearance. Sherlock finally noticed him and turned toward him. “John…..why didn’t you say something?” he asked as he looked the mess. 

John didn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes. He shivered from his body’s shock, feeling miserable with vomit down his front and on his lap. He was tired of this back and forth of feeling like he was getting better and feeling like walking death. He just wanted to get better. “I tried……can’t you just go get me a towel or something?” he asked tiredly.   
Sherlock’s expression softened. “Of course” he said, getting up and walking toward the bathroom. John resisted the urge to curl up in the blanket as his body ached, thankfully remembering that the blanket was covered in vomit. Sherlock emerged from the bathroom moments later, carrying a bin and some towels.

Sherlock cleaned up the blanket before tossing it aside. He cleaned up John’s clothes as best he could before helping him out of them. “Sorry……I wasn’t paying attention” Sherlock said quietly. “Not very attentive for a daddy” Sherlock looked down at the task and not at John’s eyes. 

John felt his cheeks warm despite the chill he felt himself. It was strange for Sherlock to refer to himself as “daddy”. John was used to that being his title. It sounded strange to him but right now he was relieved that he didn’t have to focus on taking care of himself. “It’s alright…..you’re usually on the other side of this” John said as Sherlock wiped his neck and chest. 

“Still……I’ll try to do better” Sherlock said with an encouraging smile. He grabbed another blanket from next to the couch and placing it over John who was shivering, left in nothing but his nappy. He almost felt too bad to be embarrassed at the sight; still, he was glad to have it covered up too. 

“I’ll be right back” Sherlock said, picking up the soiled clothes and towels and walking out of the room. Aching all over and feeling overwhelming dizzy, John wrapped the blanket around himself and laid down on the couch. He was almost asleep when he heard Sherlock’s footsteps right next to him 

“John…..do you want me to help you into some new clothes?” Sherlock asked, a strange tone of sympathy in his voice. John cracked one eye open to look up at Sherlock. He really didn’t want to put more clothes on; in his current statement it was just too much work and right now he didn’t think he could move much even with Sherlock’s help. 

“No……I just want to sleep” John said, a shiver going through him as he closed his eyes again. 

“Okay….hold on, take your medicine before you go to sleep” 

John could hear shuffling around him and a minute later he felt Sherlock’s weight sink down into the couch beside him. He felt a cool hand on his forehead and sighed. 

“Here John…..just take this real quick and you can go straight to sleep, alright?” 

John couldn’t get over how gentle and soft Sherlock’s voice was as he tried to treat John small; he was sure that he could get used to this version of Sherlock. It certainly beat the version that was always criticizing him. John opened one eye as Sherlock put his hand under John’s head and helped him take his medicine, easing his head down right after. As John closed his eyes again, he could feel Sherlock stand up, leaving the space beside him strangely cold and empty. John wished that he didn’t but he did want Sherlock to stay. He tried to convince himself weakly that it was because they hadn’t had any little time together lately and he was in need to cuddle little Sherlock even though he knew it was a lie. 

Sherlock smoothed the blanket around John before he began to walk away. Keeping his eyes closed, John called out weakly to Sherlock.

“Sherlock” he rasped out weakly. His voice was hoarse and raising his voice as much as he could only managed to just get Sherlock’s attention. 

“What is it?” Sherlock asked attentively, walking beside John on the couch.

Normally, John would never ask for such a thing. There was a time that even thinking about asking Sherlock to cuddle with him would have been unthinkable. But seeing as he was already knee deep into this thing, nappy and all, he might as well ask for what he wanted. “Can you……hold me?” he asked, a massive tremor going through his body. He was glad when it just proved to be a cold chill and not the urge to get sick again. 

When John looked up to see Sherlock standing next to him, he had a wide smile on his face. “Anything for my little doctor” he said before sitting down next to him on the couch. John painfully managed to roll over to make room for Sherlock to lie down. John pressed his face into the couch which felt cool on his fevered head, clutching Sherlock’s blanket to his chest. Sherlock slid next to him, putting his arms around John’s waist, pressing himself against John’s back. He instantly felt warmer and secure; though head swirled and his whole body ached, he drifted off to sleep content. 

……..  
When John woke up, he was at first only aware of a feeling of security and warmness. He didn’t know why he should feel this way at first until he felt hands at his waist and remembered Sherlock holding him as he slept. A quiet nose whistle told him that Sherlock had drifted off to sleep behind him and John nestled deeper into the blankets, unwilling to face the world yet. 

John did feel better; not great, but he certainty felt better than he had when he had gone to sleep. His stomach didn’t churn, his body was less achy and he didn’t feel as dizzy. He pulled the blankets higher on him; he was warm under them but without them he would be cold, having not put any clothes on after getting sick. His bum was the only area that was overly warm, encased as it was in cotton and plastic. It was still weird but at the same time it still gave him a thrill. He hadn’t wanted to like any of this but he couldn’t deny that he did. The idea of trying to revert to childhood would have never occurred to him before he had found out that Sherlock was a little. Even then, it was not something that he had wanted to try. His childhood was not a happy one and he couldn’t image wanting to relive it. Now, he was beginning to think of it in the opposite direction; maybe this wouldn’t be about reliving his childhood but about finding something that he had missed in his own childhood. 

“Aww…..isn’t that just the sweetest thing ever” came a soft gentle voice entirely too close to him. 

John’s eyes popped open and searched, finding Mrs. Hudson standing next to the couch. John’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes going to his padded waist first, happy to find it still covered by the blanket. He sat up as much as he could without assistance, feeling his cheeks burn in embarrassment. His sudden movement nearly caused Sherlock to fall off the couch. As he woke up and took in the sight of Mrs. Hudson as well, he shuffled quickly to sit on the end of the couch. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean to wake you two” Mrs. Hudson said, her face in a wide smile. “Don’t move on my account.”

John was mortifyingly embarrassed; he could only imagine how the sight looked. During the times that Sherlock was little, he and John were very close physically. They cuddled, slept in the same bed, exchanged hugs and innocent kisses; this was a very private part of their life and it was not seen on their surface. Now he was sure that Mrs. Hudson would only be convinced of her initial suspicions of their relationship. 

“Why are you here if you didn’t want to wake us?” Sherlock asked irritably, rubbing his tosseled hair and making it more messed up. He glared at Mrs. Hudson. 

“Oh, I was just coming to check on you, John dear” Mrs. Hudson said, still looking at the two of them like they were baby bunnies. “I wanted to see how you were doing after your accident”

At the moment John could think of little else besides the fact of how embarrassed he was. He pulled the blanket higher up on himself to cover his bare chest; he resisted the urged to move anything from the waist down lest he make a crinkling noise and draw attention to his nappy. “I’m alright…..as good as can be expected I suppose” John said with a small smile. “Still really sore but I’ll be alright”

“Well, it would seem Sherlock’s doing a good job of taking care of you” Mrs. Hudson said, giving a knowing glance between the two of them. “I see you’re in good hands, I’ll let you two get back to your…..nap”

John’s face felt like it was on fire. “Mrs. Hudson…..it’s not like that” he muttered in embarrassment. He knew it wouldn’t matter.

“Sure, dear” Mrs. Hudson said in a too-sweet voice, “I’ll leave you two alone; feel free to come down for tea whenever you like” 

“Thanks, Mrs. Hudson” John said in embarrassment as their landlady walked out the door. 

“Well, that was…..rude” Sherlock muttered, his own face slightly red from apparent embarrassment. He pushed up from the couch and walked out of the room. When he returned a minute later, he had one of John’s t-shirts and he helped him into it. 

“Where’s my pyjama bottoms?” John asked, glad to have his bare chest covered but not really wanting to leave his nappied bottom exposed. 

Sherlock gave him a knowing smile. “You don’t need pyjama bottoms, little one” he said, his voice having changed so drastically from when Mrs. Hudson was here; this was the voice he was reserving for ‘little’ John. “Without bottoms it makes it easier to change your nappy. No need to aggravate that leg, right?” 

John blushed; the bulk between his legs was comfortable and felt nice against his bits. But this was still something he was ashamed of and didn’t know if he was really ready to go around in just a nappy. “I’d like to have bottoms on” he insisted. 

Sherlock shook his head. “No…..daddy said no, didn’t he?” he said calmly but firmly. “Daddy knows best, doesn’t he?”

John knew this was part of the whole ‘trying out being little’ thing. “Alright…..I’ll keep my bottoms off” he said. He thought about adding ‘daddy’ to the end of the sentence but he wasn’t ready to try that on his tongue yet. He was supposed to be daddy. 

Sherlock could sense the small bit of hesitance in John and he walked up to John, tucking the covers around his legs making him warm up. “No one’s going to see your nappy, if that’s what you’re worried about” he assured John. “Only daddy will see it and that’s okay, right?” 

John nodded slightly; it still felt weird but he really didn’t want to take it off either. 

Sherlock smiled. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“Yeah…..I feel fine” John said truthfully. “Still a little tired and still aching but other than that I’m alright”

“Good…..why don’t you stay here on the couch and relax while Daddy makes some lunch?” Sherlock suggested. 

It was still weird hearing Sherlock refer to himself as daddy but it was nice being able to relax. “That sounds nice” he said. He watched as Sherlock disappeared into the kitchen and began to putter about, opening the cabinets and clanging pots. John flipped through the channels on the telly before settling on a Doctor Who rerun. Half way through, he felt his bladder begin to protest at its fullness. John checked to make sure that Sherlock was fully occupied with the task of making lunch before he changed positions on the couch until he found something comfortable. It was still difficult and took several minutes before he was able to actually go in the nappy. He still felt a thrill go through him at the warmth spreading over his crotch; it was both extremely relaxing and delightfully naughty, the feeling of wetting himself without even getting up from the couch. 

John was still feeling warm when Sherlock came into the living room carrying a tray. He sat next to John on the couch settling the tray on his lap. He had a bowl of soup and a sippy cup on the tray; it took John a minuet to realize that the sippy cup was for him. 

“Alright……lunch time” Sherlock said with a pleased smile, showing more interest in food than John had ever seen him, though John noticed he didn’t have any food for himself. “It’ll be good to get some food in you”

John was about to take the tray from Sherlock but was surprised instead by Sherlock taking a spoonful of the soup and coaxing it into his mouth. John swallowed the soup and watched as Sherlock got another spoonful from the bowl. He tipped it slowly into John’s mouth, a smile on his face.

“Are you planning on feeding me my entire lunch?” John asked in surprise. 

Sherlock grinned back. “Of course I am. I can’t let my little boy feed himself when he’s so out of sorts, can I?” 

Being called “little boy” and having Sherlock look at him so adoringly was strange; it made John instantly feel littler inside. He let Sherlock continue to feed him soup; halfway through the bowl, Sherlock put the sippy cup to John’s lips. It felt a little strange, sucking on the small plastic tip, but it wasn’t entirely bad. The cup was filled with apple juice, something he hadn’t had in years and it helped to make him feel smaller. 

John allowed Sherlock to feed him the rest of his soup, not thinking too much about it but being glad for the help. When he was finished eating, he sat back, feeling tired from the simple excursion of eating. 

“Does my little boy feel better?” Sherlock asked, giving John’s belly a rub. 

If nothing else, John had to admit that he enjoyed all of the causal touch that ‘daddy’ Sherlock gave him. He enjoyed the touch that he got from Sherlock as a baby but this was somehow different. John leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, trying and failing to hold in a relieved sigh. “I feel pretty good” he said. It was the best that he had felt in days.   
Sherlock scooted closer to John, putting and arm around him and pulling him to him so that his head was lying against Sherlock’s chest. He pulled the cover up so that it was closer to John; John didn’t miss that Sherlock took a peak at his nappy before doing so though. 

“Would you like to have a cuddle with daddy before your bath?” Sherlock asked, his arms already around John, as if he would say no.

“I would love that.....daddy”


	8. Chapter 8

“Come on, baby, time to get up” Sherlock urged, sitting up so that John’s head slumped forward. 

John felt his eyes falling and sleep trying to pull him under. “Can’t I just go to sleep?” he said, his voice slightly whiny. If he was supposed to be a baby, he might as well act like one. He was tired and the last thing he had energy for was the bath that Sherlock was trying to force him to take. John pulled the cover over his head to hide from Sherlock; sleep, he need sleep. 

“No, you can’t just go to sleep” Sherlock said firmly. “You have to have a bath. You can’t sit in a wet nappy all day and not have a bath to clean yourself up”

John felt his cheeks blush even though he was hidden by the blanket; the nappy was wet and puffy, obviously very used. Sherlock would know without even having looked at it. “But I’m tired…….”he whined, trying to change the subject. 

 

“But daddy is going to help you” Sherlock said, wrenching the cover off of John and exposing his bare legs and arms to the cold. Sherlock’s eyes drifted to John’s nappy and he felt himself blush even harder. “We will make the bath quick and then off to bed it is.”

Sherlock put his arms under John’s arms and helped him stand. He put John’s good arm around him and helped him walk toward the bathroom. Sherlock sat John on the closed toilet while he turned to the tub, testing the water and adjusting the knobs before letting the tub fill up. 

“Does my little boy want some bubbles in his bath?” Sherlock asked with a grin. 

John shook his head. “No…..I’m too tired to play” he said, stifling a yawn. When the tub filled up, Sherlock turned it off and turned back to John. He pulled John’s shirt off and eased it through his arms and over his head. Sherlock knelt down in front of John and his hands went to the tapes on his nappy. John felt his face and ears turn furiously red as Sherlock undid the tapes and the nappy fell open, almost full to bursting. 

“My little John sure knows how to fill a nappy” Sherlock said, pride filling his tone even though John was horribly embarrassed. It filled him with a delightful sense of shame for Sherlock to be seeing him yet again completely exposed, his nappy proof that he had wet himself multiple times. He didn’t know which was more embarrassing, that he used his nappy so much or that he liked it. He looked at Sherlock, with his smile and his reassuring words and tried not to be embarrassed. Sherlock liked it, so he really didn’t have a reason to feel embarrassed. 

Sherlock could sense that John didn’t know what to say and he helped him up and into the tub. He tilted John’s head back and began to wet his hair, massaging shampoo into it, making quick work of the bath. John relished the feel of Sherlock’s fingers running the soap through his hair, feeling drowsier by the second. Though he prided himself on being self-reliant and doing things for himself, he had to admit that he could get used to having a relaxing bath when he was particularly tired. Now he could understand why it was Sherlock’s most requested ‘little’ activity besides a good cuddle after a really tough case. 

Sherlock rinsed out John’s hair and then began rubbing a soapy wash cloth over his skin before helping him out of the tub. John put his good arm on Sherlock’s to steady himself as Sherlock helped him dry off. 

“Alright, let’s get my little doctor to the bedroom so we can get ready for bed” Sherlock said with a smile as he dropped the wet towel on the floor. He put his arm around John and helped him walk out of the bathroom and toward Sherlock’s room. Goose bumps bristled along John’s skin and he would be glad to get some clothes on; he was still not entirely used to all this open nudity. It was a lot different being the vulnerable baby than the one playing the strong daddy. 

When they got to Sherlock’s bed room, he helped John sit down on the bed before walking to the closet. John was shivering slightly when Sherlock returned with a pair of pyjamas but also a thick nappy. John couldn’t help but smile a little bit; he didn’t want to ask for another one but he was not ready to stop wearing it. For once he was glad for Sherlock’s power of deduction. 

“Aw, someone looks cold” Sherlock said as he stood in front of John. Noticing the goose bumps on John’s skin, he grabbed his blankie and handed it to John. John took it and nuzzled it comfortably, feeling a little warmth spreading from the contact but he was mostly focused on Sherlock as he grabbed the nappy. John felt what he still thought was unwarranted excitement at the crinkling sound of plastic as Sherlock opened the nappy. 

“Lift up for daddy” Sherlock encouraged and he waited for John to lift his bum slightly so he could slide the nappy underneath him. John was aware of the warm softness of the cotton on his skin and the fluffiness of the blanket when he heard the sound of Sherlock’s singing voice begin to fill the room softly. 

“Sleep my child and peace attend thee, all through the night, guardian angels God will send thee, all through the night”

John felt a calm spread over him at the ones from the song. He didn’t have many good childhood memories but the few that he had were of his grandmother. She had died when he was six and so his memories of her were faint but she always did sing him to sleep when he stayed with her and this was the song that she most often sang. He hadn’t thought of it in many years but the words triggered something in the back of his brain. 

“Soft the drowsy hours are creeping, hill and vale in slumber sleeping, I my loved ones' watch am keeping, all through the night. Angels watching, e'er around thee, all through the night”

Sherlock continued to sing and John felt tension in his muscles and a lot of his achiness dissolve as the words lulled him. Sherlock was looking down at John as he adjusted the nappy and fastened the tapes tightly. His gaze was focused on the task but John’s was focused on him. 

Unexpectedly John felt his heart swell with affection and caring for the man standing above him. He didn’t know if it was the sudden nostalgia, the little headspace that he was beginning to fall into, his thankfulness to Sherlock for what he was doing or a combination of all three but he felt love burst through his heart for Sherlock. It wasn’t like he didn’t already care for Sherlock deeply; he was his little boy at times and his best friend in others. The bond they had deepened all the time until they had reached this point where John didn’t even know how to properly classify what it was that they had. All he knew was that they were almost dependent on each other and in this moment he felt he loved him. John wondered if this was what Sherlock experienced in his little space and if that was why he seemed so affectionate and caring. 

Sherlock had finished putting John’s nappy on and his eyes now fell on John’s. Sherlock sat on the bed beside John, his eyes staying on John’s. His hand went to John’s belly and began rubbing gently along the area above his nappy the way he had last night. John let out an involuntary sigh at the calming motion, closing his eyes before looking at Sherlock again, joining him in singing the song. 

“Midnight slumber close surround thee, all through the night ,soft the drowsy hours are creeping, hill and vale in slumber sleeping, I my loved ones' watch am keeping, all through the night”

When Sherlock stopped singing John didn’t know what to say but he knew that he wasn’t ready to let go of the feeling he had inside him. It wasn’t often in his life that he felt the level of affection that he was feeling now for the man who was so often his little boy but who was his daddy in this moment, ready to care for him wholly. 

John was relieved and surprised, shocked almost when Sherlock leaned down and kissed John on the tip of his nose. John felt surprise and warmth spread through him at the simple but intimate gesture and when Sherlock pulled back John was already smiling back at him. 

“What does my little boy need?” Sherlock asked, a smile turning at the corner of his own lips. 

“I want to cuddle…..daddy” John said. His head felt fuzzy and little.

“Daddy can definitely do that” Sherlock said, an overjoyed smile on his face. He tapped his finger to John’s nose before standing up straighter and grabbing John’s pyjamas. He helped John into the bottoms and t-shirt and gave him a grin. 

“Does my little John need anything else before we get comfortable in bed?” Sherlock asked.

John shook his head; all he was feeling now was a deep need for personal contact in a way that he very rarely experienced. He only wanted to be warm and safe and to fall asleep in Sherlock’s arms. 

Sherlock helped John under the covers, turning him so that he was lying on the pillow. Sherlock climbed into bed behind him, sliding under the covers. John felt Sherlock’s body press against his back, the contours of Sherlock’s body fitting into his own like a glove. John felt a sigh get caught in his chest as Sherlock’s arms slipped around him and pulled him close. Sherlock put his chin against John’s shoulder as he cradled John to him and it was exactly what he wanted. John’s eyes closed and refused to open again as Sherlock moved in a slightly rocking motion. 

“Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John, went to bed with his trousers on; one shoe off, and the other shoe on, diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John”  
John went to sleep that night with the gentle sound of Sherlock’s song in his ears and his arms closed around him and he was sure that it was the calmest that he had been in a long time. 

…….  
John awoke the next morning, the sun stinging his eyelids before he even opened his eyes. When he did open his eyes and allowed them to adjust he saw sunlight streaming into the window of Sherlock’s bedroom and made him feel content. He shifted in bed and felt his muscles protest but the pain that he was experiencing was much less severe than it had been the past several days. 

John curled into a fetal position in bed as much as his broken leg and arm would allow, his nappy crinkling as he did so and making him smile. It was slightly saggy and puffy between his legs, making him feel content. It was still so weird; he still blamed Sherlock for introducing him to his new found interest. 

But John couldn’t deny that he had had one of the nicest nights of sleep he had ever last night. He had been lulled to sleep by Sherlock rocking him and the gentle sound of his voice singing. He had woken up only once in the night, only long enough let his full bladder go into his nappy, before rolling over toward Sherlock, nestling into him and going to sleep. Now, though the bed was empty, the calming of the night still remained. 

John stared at the bright light and thought about the previous day. He had enjoyed being taken care of by Sherlock more than he had expected to. Even though he had had an internal war with himself, feeling like he was losing control and yet somehow enjoying it, it was nice to relax and allow Sherlock to help him with the things that he needed help (and then some). It had made John feel even more cared for and made him understand more how Sherlock viewed their daddy and baby relationship. Even with all of that being said, when he was well and able to care for himself, he didn’t think that he would often want to be in the position of being the baby. He enjoyed his role as caretaker and daddy much more and he would be glad to be able to properly care for his baby. His opinion on the nappies however was an entirely different matter; Sherlock had ruined him  
completely on them and he was quite sure he wouldn’t be able to get rid of them so easily. 

As John was musing over all of this, Sherlock stuck his head into the door to check on him. “Ah, you’re awake” he said as he walked into the room and came to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked John over carefully; deducing. “How do you feel this morning?” 

“Much better, actually” John said. “I’m still sore from head to toe but the awful pain is mostly gone.” He gave Sherlock a smile. “I might be on the mend finally.”

Sherlock’s hands twisted in his lap, as if he wanted to do something but he resisted. “How…..how do feel……about the….you know…..about me taking care of you?” he asked nervously, twisting his dressing gown in his hands as he looked down. It wasn’t often that Sherlock was nervous enough that he stuttered and John knew that meant that he was really bothered. 

“It was nice” John said honestly. “I know that I resisted quite a lot about letting you do it. But now that I did, it really was nice. I need a lot of help right now with my body the way it is. I’m just now used to letting others take care of me and it’s hard to let go.” 

Sherlock paused for a long moment, as if he didn’t know if he wanted to keep going. “Do you want me to….keep going?” he asked. “You know……caring for you?”

John knew what Sherlock was really asking was if he wanted to be babied more. John really didn’t; he enjoyed it while it was happening to an extent but really he missed dotting on his little boy. He didn’t want Sherlock to get the wrong idea so he voiced his opinion slowly. 

“What I really want is my little boy” John said carefully. “You did a very good job of taking care of me but I much prefer taking care of you”

Sherlock looked down and he seemed deflated. “So you don’t want me to take care of you?” 

“I do…..sometimes” John said brightly. “But most of the time I want you to be my lovely little boy.”

Sherlock blushed, smiling slightly. “I’m not a lovely boy” he said, his voice and mannerisms seeming littler just from the verbal dotting. John suspected that Sherlock probably wanted to regress very badly. 

“Of course you are” John assured him, reaching up and touching his cheek, earning a small giggle from Sherlock that he couldn’t stop. “You are my little boy and I miss you. I liked being littler but today I think I want you to be little, alright?” 

Sherlock was grinning widely now and John was now sure that Sherlock’s inner child was about to burst out. “You’re going to be daddy today?” he asked. 

“I can’t do everything I normally would” John said “But that doesn’t mean I can’t do some of the daddy things I would normally do” 

Sherlock’s grin turned sly. “So does that mean that daddy is ready to take the nappies off and be done with them too?” he asked, his eyes drifting down to John’s lap before meeting his eyes again. 

John felt his cheeks blush and he hated himself slightly for it. He tossed his pillow at Sherlock’s head. “No, you git” he said in embarrassment. “You ruined me on them.”

Sherlock caught the pillow and grinned mischievously at John. “My evil plan was successful then” he said smugly. “You might not be an adult baby but you are a diaper lover”

“Diaper lover? What the hell is that?” John asked. It sounded weird but intriguing which made him feel even stranger. 

Sherlock smiled. “It’s what you are” he said and tossed the pillow gently at John.  
……..

John felt a sigh go through him as he looked down at Sherlock, his little boy, curled up on his lap as it should be. Sherlock had been holding on and being strong for John’s sake but it was obvious that he had been dying for the opportunity to regress. It had been a little awkward but they had managed it somehow, Sherlock curled up on John’s lap, leaning as much on the couch as John because of his injured half. He was nestled warm in his dinosaur footie pyjamas, his hand curled comfortably in John’s shirt as John’s good arm held the bottle to his lips. 

In the quiet of the flat, John listened to the reassuring sound of the Sherlock suckling. His eyes were closed, his lips moving in determination as he sucked on the bottle. It was very rare an occurrence that Sherlock was this little; he didn’t regress to the point of being an infant very often but when he did John never had a problem with it. When Sherlock was that young, it meant endless cuddles and John was always for that. 

Sherlock opened his eyes as he sucked strongly against the nipple, his eyes staring up into John’s. The look that he held there was unguarded and full of love and trust. Sherlock shifted slightly on John’s lap, his nappy crinkling against John’s as his grip tightened on John’s shirt. Everything about his look and his demeanor spoke of his deep trust and love for the man that he saw as his daddy. 

John has known from the day that he had met Sherlock that he cared about him and trusted him without question. He wouldn’t have moved in with him and killed a man to protect him all in the span of a day’s time. So, when Sherlock had cared for him and he felt that loving feeling for him so deeply inside him that it scared him, he wasn’t entirely surprised. He knew that he loved Sherlock even if he had never said it expressly to him. 

Sherlock finished his bottle, pressing the nipple out of his mouth, closing his eyes and nestling his head comfortably against John’s chest as he sought sleep. John put the bottle down and began to pat Sherlock’s back before he could sleep, waiting until he earned a small burp from Sherlock before he stopped. Once Sherlock had burped, he pulled himself more into a fetal position, curling up onto John’s lap. 

This was what he enjoyed; of his own love and security for Sherlock he was sure. But it was in these moments, the moments that Sherlock shed his pompous and arrogant exterior and showed his caring and loving vulnerable position that John lived for. It was in these moments that he knew he could never give up on being a daddy to his little boy but would cherish every opportunity that he got. 

John ran his hand through Sherlock’s curls, enjoying the way that they felt between his fingers as he smoothed them away from Sherlock’s forehead. He didn’t know if it was the medication that he was taking or his vulnerability from being the little or Sherlock’s vulnerability but he found himself voicing something that he never had before. 

“I love you, Sherlock, you know that right? Daddy loves you” John said, running his fingers from Sherlock’s hair and down his cheek. 

John’s stomach fluttered nervously as he wondered whether or not he should have said anything. Sherlock’s eyes met his own, pink tinting his cheeks. He didn’t say anything; maybe he was too little to. But his reaction was altogether the same; he pulled himself up, putting his arms around John’s neck and pulling himself close to John. Sherlock buried his face in John’s neck and John could feel his breath hot against his own skin. Sherlock hugged him tighter and it was all the assurance that he needed.  
…….

John knew that he was feeling entirely too much glee as he stooped over the dead body in the street. He examined his fingers, his face, everything from head to toe; he wasn’t happy about the poor bloke who had obviously been stabbed to death. This was just the first time that he had been to work since the accident. He had felt like his broken bones were never going to heal and was glad to be back in the fresh air, making use of himself instead of sitting on the couch uselessly. 

John was leaning over the body, immersed in his work when he felt a firm pat to his backside, almost making him fall over onto the corpse. He felt his cheeks blush red at the padded sound that it made. He glanced furiously around to see if anyone noticed but all he saw was Sherlock crouching down beside him, a mischievous grin on his face.  
“Tell me, John……what is that rustling noise?” Sherlock asked in a low tone so no one but he could hear. 

John punched Sherlock in the arm. “Shut up” he said in annoyance but trying not to laugh. “You know, someone might notice”

“No one but you and me even heard the thump of your nappy” Sherlock whispered. “Stop worrying”

“Actually, I was referring to the fact that you just slapped my ass” John said, giving Sherlock a sly smile. “Someone might talk”

“That’s all people ever do, isn’t it?” Sherlock asked in amusement. “How are you feeling?” he asked as his eyes drifted down to John’s backside. 

John blushed even deeper. Sherlock had somehow convinced him to wear a nappy out today. He had gotten very used to wearing them around the house; he still wasn’t exactly comfortable admitting that he liked it but he did. He had tried to argue that he would never wear one in public (someone might notice!) but as usual, Sherlock had convinced him to change his mind. 

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this” John muttered under his breath. “I feel ridiculous”

“So you don’t like it?” Sherlock asked with a raised eyebrow before looking back to the body, studying it. 

“No!” John said quickly even though they both knew it was a lie. 

“So, you haven’t used it?” Sherlock asked, amusement in his tone. He already knew the answer to that. 

“Oh shut up, you arse” John said and they both let out a laugh. John tried to turn his attention back to the work at hand but it was hard to now that the bulk between his legs seems so noticeable. 

“John, why don’t you just admit that I know what you like, before you even know you like it sometimes” Sherlock said slightly arrogantly. 

“I will not” John said with an amused huff. 

“But you know it’s true” Sherlock said before leaning in and whispered. “Sometimes, baby knows best” 

And even though John wouldn’t admit, wouldn’t ever admit it, it was the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys this is the end of this little saga :) Thanks for reading and your kind comments. Keep your eyes peeled for future stories I'll be posting with our little Sherlock and John ;)


End file.
